A New Kind of Danger
by JessPuggy
Summary: Pellinor fic. Maerad and Cadvan are traveling again, and Annar is full of those who seek to stop them...
1. Chapter 1

-1The forest was nearly silent but for the horses footfalls. They trotted along at a measured pace, weaving their way through the dense vegetation, while their riders were forced to dodge tree limbs and spiny vines. Maerad was lost in her thoughts, as she had been for the most part of their recent travels, oblivious to the sudden lack of usual forest sounds. She was thinking about Hem; they had sought word of him and Saliman in every town they passed, no matter how small. No matter how much hope she held out, it was always the same-no one had seen or heard of any survivors from Turbansk.

It was so incredibly daunting: it had been weeks since the battle at Innail, and they had traveled so far, with so many close encounters. With each day the danger seemed to increase, so that Maerad no longer ruled out any possibilities. Any step could be the one that led to the situation she wouldn't escape from.

Her contemplation was interrupted when Cadvan halted Darsor and her mare stopped short behind him.

"What's-" Cadvan glanced back at her sharply, and Maerad stopped speaking. He pressed his forefinger to his lips, indicating that she should remain silent, and drew his sword, Arnost, from its sheath.

_The forest thins ahead, _he spoke into her mind, his voice full of apprehension. _Listen._

Confused and instantly alert, Maerad sent out her hearing. Nothing. There wasn't any birdsong, nor even the flittering of their wings as they perched in the treetops; the silence was staggering. Wordlessly, Maerad mimicked Cadvan and drew her own sword.

_What do you think awaits us? _The question sounded more bitter in her mind then she had intended. It was just so frustrating; they could make little progress if they were ambushed at every turn. Hulls and wers were simply enough when you came across them singularly, but when they congregated and plotted specific ploys it became dangerous. _Perhaps we've found ourselves another wight; wouldn't that be fun? _She could see Cadvan's body relax at her jest.

_Obviously, our ideas of fun are quite different. I think it more likely some terrible creature we haven't encountered before. No wer would wait so quietly, though it could be hulls. _He was joking at the beginning, but grew more serious as he continued. Maerad tightened her grip on the sword hilt in her hand, grimly hoping that she would not have to use it.

They moved forward cautiously, choosing the horses path carefully for the best soundless effect. They hadn't made twenty paces when a shadow passed overhead and the trees around them seemed to shudder, as if disturbed by a harsh wind. Maerad strained her neck to see what had caused the commotion; the highest branches swayed but beyond them the afternoon sky was as clear. The air was absolutely still.

Maerad opened her mouth to speak but it strangled off into a gasp as the treetops erupted into a shower of limbs. Both Bards threw up a shield and the branches fell harmlessly around them, but the sky was now blotted out by a massive shadow; it pressed down towards them, creating a volley of falling lumber. It was like a raging hailstorm had settled directly over them, throwing all of its fury into chaos and destruction.

"Move!" Cadvan's command was barely perceptible, though Maerad knew it was shouted. Her horse followed Darsor eagerly, moving erratically, as though she might descend into a panicked sprint at any moment. The shadow around them was so wide; whatever hunted them was massive and very, very strong. Maerad thought she could see daylight touching the ground ahead of them and she leaned forward in Keru's saddle, willing them to reach relative safety so that they could regroup and face this beast head on.

She was sure they were going to make it when something very heavy and solid struck her in the side, the sheer force of it taking her breath and knocking her from her seat despite her shield. The ground rushed up to meet her, the impact making her gasp in pain, and her sword landed in the brush several feet away. Maerad gritted her teeth and rolled unsteadily to her knees, fighting the urge to be sick. For a moment her vision was nonexistent, blackness shadowed everything, and her hearing was filled with an insistent ringing. Her fingers dug into the dirt and she shook all over, every part of her resisting when she forced her muscles into action and stood.

As soon as she was upright the ringing in her ears changed pitch, and it was an enraged shriek that she heard as her vision came back into focus. At first she could see only the forest around her; mangled trees littering the ground to one side of her, creating a large opening. In that opening was a sight that made her heart skip a several beats-moving shadows that slowly took shape into the dark frames of multiple hooded hulls, and a massive, gnarled creature filled the space behind them. It's wings were spread wide, covered in sharp, curved spikes that looked deadly on their own. It opened it's mouth, or what Maerad took to be it's mouth, and let out another ferocious scream, so loud that she put up her hands to cover her ears and stumbled backwards.

Cadvan was beside her in seconds, sitting atop Darsor with Arnost raised high in one hand, glowing so brightly with power that Maerad had to squint in order to look at him. She could read the seriousness of their situation in his features; it was not everyday that Cadvan would seem worried. Her horse was no where to be seen, which was probably for the best-they could find her if they managed to survive whatever came next.

There was no time to think. Maerad felt Cadvan's powers merging with hers as the first attack was made: two hulls stuck out at once, surging bolts of blackness directly towards them. Their shields deflected the assault and Cadvan's voice rang out, sending forth white flames in response. The flames hit their goal, sizzling on impact with the nearest hooded figure, but did no apparent damage. The hulls laughter pierced the air, the sound of it making Maerad's stomach boil with nausea.

"Stand down now," it called tauntingly. "And we shall spare your miserable life. The girl will come with us, either way." The monster behind the hulls snarled, as if affirming the statement.

"There will be no compromising," said Cadvan, his voice dangerously low. Maerad glanced towards him in surprise-he seemed almost lordly in his full power.

"Cadvan-" she started, but then broke off, as she no longer remember what it was that she prepared to say. Her mind fogged, a familiar fuzziness, and her eyes widened as true fear penetrated her heart for the first time.

_No,_ she thought, struggling against the binding cloudiness her mind had taken on. _No! _It was a fight like she had never endured; a rivalry for her will, her very consciousness. It was a sorcery stronger than she could have imagined, and she was losing ground, sinking beneath the surface of overpowering, murky waves. With her strength fading, Maerad cast her eyes upward, searching the clearing for the cause of her suffering. The closest hull seemed to grin at her-an impossible feat, for one with no distinct features with which to smile-but she sensed that it was not the one ensnarling her.

Her breath came roughly, in panted gasps that grew more difficult with each passing second. Her limbs began to betray her and she swayed, crying out and bracing herself for the impact with the ground. She heard Cadvan call her name, but the darkness in her mind was taking over, pulling her deeper into herself so that the outside might never have existed. And then the blackness was complete and, though outwardly her body hit the ground hard, Maerad felt nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the 1****st**** chapter! I decided to write another one, but I don't think it'll sound as Pellinor-ish as the first chap did… I've been writing a lot of other stuff, and I think I'm stuck in a different style for now lol. Hopefully it's not too bad! I'd like to hear what you think, so if you read, why not review?**

Maerad woke confused, surrounded by unfamiliar bare walls and propped up in a bed she couldn't remember ever seeing before. The room was only mildly lit, a single torch hung from the wall opposite of her bed. Shadows reached into each of the corners, making the room seem smaller than it actually was. There were no sounds to be heard; no one was waiting by her side in case she resumed consciousness.

Maerad sat still for several minutes, her features twisted into a frown as she attempted to piece together the memories that led to her black out. She remembered a dense forest and traveling with Cadvan; she remembered being anxious about finding Hem in time to save her friends - and all of Annar - from the Dark.

Nothing in her memories gave reason for her current position.

It was a painful reminder of a time in her past, when she had woken from a long journey through frozen lands to find herself swathed in fur blankets and kept in a foreign fortress. The apprehension was the same, the unease of not knowing what was to come. It shook Maerad into action.

First and foremost, she glanced briefly down at her hands - an impulse reaction. Everything was as it should be; the line of scarred skin across her hand was a familiar sight now, almost reassuring. Maerad stretched next, working some energy back into her lax limbs. There were various aches that called her attention, but the pain in her body had reached far greater plains before, so Maerad dismissed them without much thought.

The floor was stone, bare as the walls and cold against Maerad's feet as she tried to find the balance to stand. Her boots were gone, as were her well-worn traveling clothes. In their place was a plain white gown that hung limply past her knees. The material was clean and soft, but Maerad was irritated at the loss of her own clothing. She would have been more at ease if she could possess at least one piece of her proverbial self.

She refused to linger on the fact that her pack, which contained her lyre, was not present, either.

The only other object of interest in her room, besides the bed she had woken in, was the door. Maerad found herself staring at it - deliberating the chance that she would like what she found on the other side. She disliked the idea of going out anywhere, dressed as she was.

This deliberation was short lived, replaced by anxiety the moment the door handle moved. The movement was miniscule, caused, perhaps, by the pressure of one's hand resting on the other side. The sound of a lock clicking open made Maerad flinch.

So she wouldn't have made it far, had she decided to take her chances with leaving.

Maerad took several quick backward steps, freezing in place once her legs touched the bed behind her.

The door swung inward inch by inch, as if in slow motion. It hadn't opened far when a slim figure slipped through the crack, entering Maerad's room and closing the door behind them. Maerad knew immediately that she had not met the boy - for it was just a boy, perhaps her age or even a year or so younger. His features were veiled by the hood he wore, which hung down low over his face.

"Who are you?" Maerad was pleasantly surprised at the strength in her voice. As least she could sound it, if she didn't feel it.

When the boy spoke, his voice was laced with disapproval. "You're supposed to be sleeping. They wouldn't like it if you were up and about."

Maerad felt her eyes widen, but otherwise attempted not to display any emotion. In her mind, her thoughts were reeling from the information already provided. _They wouldn't like it._ It didn't sound like _they_ were merely holding her health in high esteem - it sounded like she was being kept prisoner. She didn't like it. Unease trickled into her voice when she replied, making it tenser, quieter.

"Where am I?"

Her first inquiry had been disregarded, so Maerad didn't hold out much hope of the second being answered.

The boy took two large steps, bringing him to the center of the room. Maerad resisted the urge to move away; the only option for placing more distance between them was to stand against the wall. Her current position was better than being cornered, at least.

It was only when he was closer, where Maerad could just make out the frown fixed on his face, that she realized he was a Bard. The distinctive glow was very faint in him, but it was there. Without a moments hesitation, she reached out to him in the Speech.

"Please, won't you tell me where I am? Where my things are?"

That brought a reaction, though it was not the one Maerad had anticipated. The boy laughed, chuckling to himself as if he'd just heard a funny joke.

"Enkir will be coming to speak with you, I supposed, since you refuse to sleep. He has much to say to you."

The words were in the Speech, but Maerad's mind had stopped comprehending them after the name he began with. Enkir. Maerad wasn't sure if she would not rather be in company with the Nameless One himself.

More than anything, she wished she could recall the events that led to her capture. Then she might know where Cadvan was, or, more importantly, if he was still alive.

It was terrible to wish that Cadvan was in a similar room somewhere close by, prisoner as she was, but Maerad wished it all the same. If she were captured, there were few other alternatives for his fate.

The boy, who Maerad had almost forgotten in the dept of her thoughts, sneered and stepped closer still.

"We were right to place our trust in Enkir, I see that clearly now. Only a Bard with his capacity could restore peace to Annar. Those who find hope in the foretelling of the Fire Lily are naught but lost to the Dark."

Maerad knew she should feel indignation, for it was not only herself being addressed, but all those who believed in her, as well. Anger was there, she could perceive the irate emotion dripping fire into her veins, making her skin tingle with warmth - but it was greatly overshadowed by defeat.

Was there a purpose to fighting anymore? Maerad wasn't sure.

"If you have no more information to give me, you should leave. Send in Enkir. You were right, there is much to be said between he and I." Despite the emotionless front she feigned, Maerad's voice disclosed the deep hatred she was feeling.

The boy nodded; his hood drooped even lower in his face with the movement. Without speaking another word, he turned and left her alone again. The lock clicked shut seconds after his departure.

Maerad sank down onto the mattress, letting her tired muscles relax and dropping her head in her hands. In the darkness behind her closed eyelids, she could see Enkir as he was in the tower of Norloch - arrogant and filled with scorn towards her and Cadvan. He was with the Dark, Maerad had known so right away, and had thought others might recognize the evil of his ways on their own. She had been mistaken, apparently. What a skilled pretender he must be, in order to trick even a few Bards into believing his actions were done in the name of the Light.

Time passed, and Maerad remained motionless, dealing with the bleak complications of capture in her own quiet way. When she got tired of sitting, she put her legs up on the bed and leaned back, resting her head on the single lumpy pillow. She felt for Cadvan for hours, attempting to find a trace of his essence while skirting around stranger after stranger.

Finally, drained and discouraged, Maerad had no choice but to give up. Sleep rose once more to claim her, and she went willingly, pleased to have found an obtainable escape from reality.


End file.
